CWMBR 154

Chapter 154

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Sponsored by Elisa. Thank you ❤️(10/10)

***

If only the Penningtons had been alive, so much would have been different.

The Penningtons, who would have raised their only daughter with great care, would have brought her to Glynford the instant they learned how Bridget was being treated by her husband. No, they wouldn't have let her marry him in the first place. They would have seen through Ain's character long ago and kept their daughter in check.

At the very least, once Bridget became pregnant, they would have kept her close like that elderly couple, feeding her only the best and caring for her. They would have meticulously prepared baby items for the soon-to-be-born grandchild. They would have diligently tended to their daughter's sleeping arrangements, knowing how difficult it was for her to lie down comfortably.

"Emotions naturally fluctuate when you're pregnant."

"Yes, I see. It changes dozens of times like this..."

"Now that you know, please don't interrupt me while I'm crying, Pergy."

"...................Is it normal to start calling people by their first names so casually when you're pregnant?"

"Is that really something to ask someone who's crying?"

Watching the two of them bicker from a step back felt strangely surreal. Did pregnant Bridget experience such emotional turbulence too? He recalled the contents of the letters she had sent, but they contained almost nothing of her feelings. Only profound affection for the baby.

Still, he suspected Bridget must have experienced significant emotional shifts too. She just couldn't express them properly due to her harsh surroundings.

"My belly is twitching!"

"It's the baby moving. Proof it's healthy. Could you please stop looking at it like it's some kind of monster?"

"Is this really a hand?"

Fetal movement. Come to think of it, the letter mentioned fetal movement. She felt it even though it was too early to be expected.

If Bridget had carried her pregnancy safely and healthily to term, her belly would have grown that big too. When the baby pressed its hands and feet against her belly, she would have smiled happily and stroked that spot. If the baby hiccupped inside, she would have been startled. If it kicked wildly, she would have sighed, saying she couldn't sleep.

All that time she never reached was also time he had stolen from her.

“Is she... okay? She keeps screaming!"

"Why are you making such a fuss? Our daughter is the one giving birth, isn't she?"

"Well, I did contribute a little to Miss Matria's healthy delivery... Oh, I hear crying!"

"No, why are you crying?"

If only he could have seen Bridget endure that difficult period and finally hold the life in her arms, if only he could have stood by her side, held her weary hand, and comforted her for her hardship.

"The baby is so small…. And it resembles Miss Matria."

"It just looks like a wrinkled baby gorilla………………"

"Miss Matria, please rest first. You've been through so much, it seems your eyesight is affected too."

<………. Is it mine?> (Ain asked in the past)

Whether a boy or a girl, the baby would have been utterly adorable. It might have resembled Bridget, its eyes dyed a deep, forest-green. Its hair might have been a light brown, shimmering golden whenever sunlight touched it.

But it didn't matter if the baby didn't look exactly like Bridget. A baby raised with Bridget's love would surely take after her temperament. If the baby had looked like Ain, and perhaps had his personality too... Still, Bridget would have raised the child well. She would have.

What would a baby resembling both her and him have been like?

“Feeding every two hours?………”

“I'm trying my best not to let her cry, I'm sorry. She keeps waking me up every night.”

“It's fine, you have insomnia anyway, Ain.”

“But you don't, Pergy. You don't have to help me like this every dawn.”

“I was already awake.”

Bridget’s and his baby must have looked just like that tiny baby. Demanding food every two hours, whining. Even the slightest warmth turned her skin into goosebumps, bright red. Thrashing her arms and legs, startling herself with her own movements. Crying the moment laid down, needing to be held and patted all day long. Each time, the clumsy parents would have been completely flustered, frantically trying to soothe the baby.

And yet, the baby would have gripped the parents' fingers tightly with its small, plump hands, made cooing sounds with its little triangular mouth, and occasionally stared intently at the parents' faces with its clear, transparent eyes. If it had been born.

If it could have been born.

How happy would Bridget have been holding that baby in her arms?

"Why is that young man working so hard? You don't even have a baby to hold when you get home! The baby's dad should be the one learning how to hold a baby!"

"Huh? No, Master Ain..."

"Hey, baby daddy. If you want to help your hardworking wife even a little when you get home, learn something now! What are you doing? Learning this will come in handy for the second or third child!"

"Wait, Master Ain! You need to support the back of the neck!"

Half-pushed, he held the baby for the first time. It was so small and light. He froze in place, afraid the slightest pressure might crush it. Unable to watch any longer, Fergus took the baby back. The elderly couple clicked their tongues at Ain's awkwardness, muttering a quiet warning that he'd likely face his wife's scorn back home. Ain stared blankly at Fergus, who was now skillfully cradling the baby, before answering.

"That won't happen. I'm already divorced."

"................Oh dear. Then your pregnant wife..."

"Miscarried. Because of me."

The elderly couple said no more, but Ain sensed a subtle shift in their demeanor. Even if they regarded him like a terrible criminal, Ain could do nothing about it.

Around midnight that day, the faint sound of a baby crying seemed somehow different from usual. Strangely, with no one to soothe the baby all through the dawn, Ain listened to the baby's cries all night long. After much deliberation, he stepped outside his room only to discover that, for once, Matria's baby was sleeping soundly without crying.

Yet somewhere, a baby was crying. No, was this the sound of a baby crying? Or was it a woman's sobs?

"Ain!"

Declan's startled cry snapped Ain back to his senses. He calmly picked up a handkerchief, wrapped it around his hand, and rose.

"I should try to get in a bit earlier tonight."

***

In the Glynford region, a local festival originating from the legends of the Valea River was held every year. More precisely, it originated from prayers to appease the river nymph, but by now, it had long since degenerated into just an officially sanctioned day of revelry.

And the mayor of Glynford wanted to revive the festival's original character. Appointed after the previous mayor, who had been friendly with Ronan, resigned in disgrace, he was a man who handled affairs quite strictly by the book. He had his own ambitious goal of revitalizing the region. Thanks to him, several meaningful events were added to the festival period, which had previously been nothing but drinking and revelry.

Bridget's charity performance was one such event, and a large crowd was expected—not only ordinary citizens but also many prominent figures from the local upper class. With both the main theater and the smaller theater open, hosting opera and plays respectively, the turnout was sure to be substantial.

So Bridget thought that at least here, Ain might not show up. No matter how little he cared about others' opinions, he probably wouldn't want to be a spectacle for so many people.

Besides, Bridget personally hoped he wouldn't come. The play being staged for the charity performance was none other than her own work, the one she'd presented at the grand reopening.

She wondered how he could possibly know who wrote it if she didn't say, yet she felt uneasy knowing the play was based on her experiences with him. Of course, as a script, it had undergone significant adaptation and was now a story detached from reality, but...

Bridget let out a long sigh as she gave her outfit one last check in the office mirror.

Frankly, did it even matter if Ain saw the play or not? She had plenty of other people to worry about today, Ain included.

And the moment she stepped out of the office, she truly had no time left to think about Ain. The lobby was packed, and she was too busy greeting each person individually.

"Gilum? Didn't you say you couldn't make time?"

"Haha, I came with Sanne."

"Goodness, I didn't expect you to come together."

Bridget's eyes widened at the unexpected visitors.

"I happened to have time. We came to catch up after so long."

Sanne smiled as she greeted them, then swept her gaze around the grand theater. Unlike Gilum, who visited Glynford frequently, it had been quite a while since she'd been here. Comparing the Glynford of her memory to the scene before her, Sanne fell silent for a moment before letting out a small gasp.

"So that's why Gilum kept pestering me to come. It's completely unrecognizable."

The interior renovations alone would have made the atmosphere feel vastly different. Watching Bridget, who was smiling with pride, Sanne smiled back and continued.

"And Miss Pennington too."

"You look much better."

When Gilum casually chimed in, Sanne looked at him with an expression that was half-smile, half-tear. Then she suddenly turned her gaze away, glancing toward the bustling entrance.

"And Lord Wise too."